Greener Grasses Alpha
by Mellie DeHiraeth
Summary: Time travel Drarry with a nice supply of Greengrass. Harry Potter, accomplished auror, destroyer of dark lords, and depressed adult after the potential murder of his childhood rival Draco Malfoy. He hides away in a muggle apartment - until one day, Luna offers a way to go back and do it all again. [This story is in preview. No updates will occur until other stories are completed.]
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter. Destroyer of Dark Lords, fairly successful Auror, and depressed adult.

He groggily rose from his room in his muggle apartment. He'd lived here for a while now; he'd taken out a huge sum of money, enough to last a lifetime, and was determined to live as a hermit for the rest of his days.

Flashbacks assaulted him wherever he went in the magical world. Sometimes they even assaulted him here, in his muggle abode. He stumbled down the stairs - dammit, he'd gone to sleep in his clothes again - and sighed, walking dejectedly towards his kitchen.

What he didn't expect to see was Luna, sitting serene as ever, on his kitchen table.

"Luna, how did you find me?" He asked tiredly, ignoring the rush of memories that once again threatened to attack him. "And why are you sitting on my table?"

"The Snorcacks told me I needed to be here with some things today," Luna replied airily. "I see you haven't recovered from Draco's death… perhaps these will help you." She pointed lazily to a grocery bag of vague items, one which looked like a suspiciously large tome.

"Um… thank you?" Harry stumbled, leaning against the door. "I'm sorry, I just woke up."

Luna nodded. "I know. Harry? I'm sorry I won't be able to help you further, but please do kiss Draco for me."

"But Luna," Harry protested, ignoring her comment's implications. His bad memories continued to play relentlessly. "Draco's dead. He's been dead for at least a year… He died right in front of me, Luna, and I couldn't do anything for him." He brushed away the uncomfortable tingle in his eyes and stepped forward. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes," Luna nodded slowly. "Do take advantage of your heirship. You'll know when."

Harry raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely nodding solemnly in reply.

"Goodbye, Harry," she said wistfully, trotting towards the door. "Oh - and please leave a note before you go." Cryptic message delivered, Luna walked out of Harry's apartment and left him to deal with the grocery bag of items she'd given him.

* * *

Harry hadn't slept in ages. A stale cup of coffee sat next to him, dutifully forgotten in his desperation.

The answers. They were _right there._

He'd already begun to brew potions. The Deathly Hallows, as exalted as they were, were thrown haphazardly over a conjured chair that sat dejectedly in the corner. He felt his eyelids drooping and summoned another potion, one he'd brewed on day three when he realized sleep was irrelevant and had to be dealt with as unobtrusively as possible.

Gulping it down, he barely even tasted it. He blinked and returned to work, invigorated artificially by the power of potions.

Inside Luna's gift had been everything he needed to go back in time… or at least, somewhat. The book talked a lot about astral planes, other dimensions, and the fact that time travel of this scale still counted, technically, as part of the same timeline, continuing on from when he used the potion to where he wanted to go seamlessly, blah blah blah etcetera etcetera. He wasn't really interested in the details, but basically, it was the perfect way to fix everything. He could save Draco. He could do something more than enslave himself to fighting Voldemort's lackeys. He could make his life into something better than a train wreck.

It was going to be worth it. Every bit. He just needed to complete the potion, stick the Time Turner into the liquid, and chant some very long and complicated runes which he'd been memorizing half the time. If he aimed it right, he'd be able to return to his eleventh birthday or even earlier, giving him the chance to fix everything.

He kept working.

* * *

"... _Itaque tempus convertero; mutatio."_ He dropped the Time Turner.

The world dissolved into endless swirling colour.

* * *

A/N: The first chapter is always the rockiest. It gets better.

I'll be sending out around five chapters of preview. I'd like to add a few warnings here for those of you contemplating continuing.

My characterization of each character may be a bit skewed or OOC to fit the story and universe. I understand if this bothers you, and feel free to point it out, but some OOCness is expected, so don't be surprised if they don't behave they way you expect them too.

Furthermore, I'm terrible at writing romance. I'm trying not to subject myself to regular pitfalls, like one character effectively worshiping the other; however, such things will happen throughout the story, sometimes intentionally for development, sometimes not. Their relationship will change, obviously, from when they are eleven to when they're sixteen or above. If there's any advice to be given, please do tell. I'm listening.

Finally, understand that I frequently have difficulty establishing a story. Don't judge it based on only the first two or three; I highly suggest you reach past chapter four before you decide to drop or follow this story. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry opened his eyes. Under any other circumstances, the familiar scent of childhood and the sight of the ceiling less than a meter from his head would have sent him flying into a panic. At the moment, however, nothing less than an elated grin covered his face.

An instant later, the deathly hallows, recognizing his achievements, flew to him easily, appearing before him with but a thought. Smiling fondly, he curled under his invisibility cloak, sent a powerful, wordless alohomora at his confining cupboard door, and escaped, wand and stone in his pocket and hidden skilfully under his cloak.

Once on the street, Harry reached for the Elder Wand and looked around. He could probably use a car, but that was relatively boring. No - he'd use a motorcycle, if he could find one.

He walked for about a mile before he finally found one. Quietly noting the house so he could buy a replacement for them later, he quickly shot a flurry of charms at the midnight-blue bike and hopped on, grinning as it rose into the air obediently.

He rose into the air and never looked back.

* * *

Checking his age, he managed to get the day and year. It was around a month before Harry was due to go to Hogwarts; he had a month to deal with as many problems as possible.

First on his list was sorting out his Gringotts accounts and destroying the horcruxes. He wasn't particularly eager to die _again_ , but he wasn't sure what options he had. It was times like this he wished he had the thirst for book study that Hermione had, but there wasn't much he could do. He'd just have to find a way to do it.

Having a goal made it all the more real, and he felt it begin to overwhelm him as he approached the Leaky Cauldron. By the time he hit the ground in a nearby alleyway, he was shaking. He slid off the bike and rested his back against the walls, staring at his hands for what seemed like forever.

He counted elephants in his head until he felt his breathing return to normal. He felt his pulse, running over his duties in his head. Go to Gringotts. Collect the Gryffindor heirship. Destroy the did it once before. He could do it again.

A solid, self-assuring nod, and he was off again. Shrinking the bike down, he quickly started at a run down the street, keeping his eye out for the elusive doors to the Leaky Cauldron.

Finding them, he dove inside the pub and held his cloak under the crook of his arm, breathing hard. He hadn't anticipated how weak his eleven-year-old self would be.

Warily brushing his hair over his scar, he dashed away towards the door out the back, tapping the blocks in quick succession and walking through eagerly. Despite having isolated himself after Draco's death, it could not be denied that he loved the magical world and everything within it.

He was around halfway there when he was stopped.

"Hey, you there."

Harry froze, then forced himself to relax and turned around, careful to keep his scar covered. "Can I help you?" He asked politely. "I'm in a bit of a hurry."

Daphne Greengrass. Harry remembered her faintly as a Slytherin alongside Draco, a pureblood and friend of Pansy Parkinson; he didn't actually know much beyond that. He turned to face her fully and noticed she was alone. It was strange; purebloods usually valued their children. Why would she be on her own?

Just as he thought that, a younger girl followed up behind her. The similarities were faint, but Harry noticed them. Sisters, then. What was her name again…? Astoria?

"I'm fine," Daphne insisted. She seemed much less cold than he remembered her being… "but you look like a street rat. Are you alright?"

Harry had the sense to glance at himself. "Huh. You're right. Thanks for telling me." He'd completely forgotten about what he was wearing. He probably wouldn't have noticed if he was wearing a clown suit, he'd been in such a rush.

"But why are you in such terrible clothes?" She demanded.

Harry shrugged. "I don't have any others." It was true.

"Then get better ones," Astoria reasoned. "Why aren't you getting better ones?"

Harry shuffled awkwardly. How did he explain that? She seemed like the most simple-minded nine-year-old he'd ever met. "I don't have money?"

Daphne sighed. "We'll get you better ones. Come on, Madame Malkin's is over this way."

Unable to think of anything to convince her otherwise, Harry followed. He briefly wondered just how he was going to repay them for this without having the Greengrasses know they had owed him anything in the first place, but decided it was unimportant compared to his duties. His mind wandered until he found a suitable question to ask.

"Um, if you don't mind my asking… where are your guardians?" Daphne seemed almost sheepish at this, but wore a careful mask of indifference through it.

"We were separated earlier today. The crowds are much larger during the daytime." Daphne refused to say more. "Here we are. Go on."

Harry gave her a bright smile and stepped into the familiar shop. Late at night, it had a much more relaxing atmosphere, and Harry glanced towards Daphne and Astoria just once before hopping into a chair and waiting patiently for torture to begin, casting a disillusionment over his scar quickly while nobody was looking..

He was quickly attacked by the attendants in the shop, who fussed over him as if he were a media darling despite his disillusioned scar. Mourning briefly that he might never escape his fame, he allowed the Greengrass girls to advise the employees, pestering them over colours and generally do the shopping for him. He fell into a haze of consideration, letting his thoughts wander as people pricked him with pins and generally made a mess of clothing.

"There, finished," one of the attendants announced. "That'll be fifty galleons, dears."

The money passed hands, and Harry left the store wearing what he considered to be a rather stifling blue set of dress pants and a sharp black polo, covered by soft black robes. He sighed in resignation at the bag of clothes he carried with him under his other arm, his first still occupied by his cloak. At least he'd been able to move the bike, the wand and the stone to his pockets.

"Thank you very much for purchasing clothes for me," Harry said kindly, nodding politely to each sister. "I appreciate it."

Daphne nodded quietly, a ghost of a smile on her lips, and Astoria shot him a proud grin. "It was only right," Daphne said modestly.

Harry smiled. "Right. Say, you're headed home, right?"

They nodded slowly. "But we don't know where our parents are," Astoria continued easily.

Harry grinned. "Right. Let's find them." He pulled out the Elder Wand and cast a powerful search charm, smiling as it began to lead him in the right direction. "You following?"

The sisters eyed each other, nodded, and followed him.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass were much more interesting than Harry had anticipated.

Mrs. Greengrass, in particular, seemed to want to coddle him, which was a confusing experience. Mrs. Weasley had always cooed over him, but she hadn't been so openly attentive towards him; she treated him like just another son. Mr. Greengrass was quiet, but he smiled gently and gave silent nods and shakes as answers. It was interesting to see them in a new light, as parents before pureblood supremacists. He suppressed his memories of the family and continued on.

"So you're here all alone, Teddy?" Mrs. Greengrass inquired, sitting next to him. The two parents had been at a small establishment on the other side of Diagon, and he had had to quickly give her a cover name. "What happened?"

Harry bit his lip and quickly formed a story to tell. "I… my parents are dead, ma'am."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mrs. Greengrass said quietly. "Who was taking care of you?"

"My squib aunt and her muggle husband, Mrs. Greengrass," Harry replied slowly.

Mrs. Greengrass frowned, but nodded. "Right. Can you get back to them?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "I'm not allowed to."

"Why?" Now she looked slightly irritable, and heavily confused.

"Aunt Petunia kicked me out. She doesn't like magic, see," he explained in the simplistic way of a child, "so she decided to get rid of me." He shrugged. "I walked around and got here."

Harry did not expect the steel in Mrs. Greengrass's voice. "Your Aunt, Petunia," she spoke as if she were talking of a rather disturbing accident, "Is she your magical guardian?"

"No," Harry replied, confused. "I think some guy named Dumbledore is, though I've never met him."

"Ah, ministry-appointed, then," Mrs. Greengrass shared a pointed look with her husband. He nodded once. "Well, Teddy... If you wanted to, that is.. Would you like to have us as guardians instead?"

Harry was unprepared for this question. "You mean… I'd be your son?"

"Exactly." Mrs. Greengrass confirmed. Daphne and Astoria were watching in rapt curiosity now. "We could blood-adopt you. We would give you an official family name and a family. Would you?"

Harry quietly considered. He'd come here for Draco. But perhaps it was not wrong of him… to accept the chance to have his childhood dream come true.

"I'd love to."

* * *

A/N; further explanations for why Harry was so quickly accepted will be offered to any who ask. I believe my reasons here are justified; however, I do understand that it's highly unlikely such a thing would _actually_ happen in real life. However, I believe I'll fall back on the 'it's just a story' for this, silly as I feel doing it.

Also - my Deathly Hallows are a bit OOC. Basic explanation is that, when one person masters them all, they immediately join that person. The sort of 'Master of Death' that the stories suggest. They will be loyal to him until either he dies or the requirements of the objects passing hands is met - specifically, someone steals the wand, the owner of the stone suicides, or the owner of the cloak passes the cloak on to another.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry woke up in a luxurious bed, and stretching out his frail, eleven-year-old body, he prepared for the day. He was actually incredibly excited; today they were going to go through with the blood adoption and register him as ir son. He suspected that they had muddled over a name just yesterday night after dinner; after all, what other reason would they send Harry to bed before Astoria and Daphne?

However, he needed to be careful. He'd have to have his scar removed somehow before they noticed. He pulled out the Elder wand once more and cast a quick conjuring spell, thinking idly that this was a terrible use for the most powerful wand in the world but ignoring it in favour or carefully spreading the conjured face cream over his scar until it was completely hidden. A quick, weak disillusionment spell, and he was ready to go.

Being in a new house again was oddly familiar. He wandered downstairs into the kitchen, the eerily silent Greengrass estate calming him after a year and a half of living in an apartment in downtown England. With the cars, silence was rare and much appreciated.

Harry quickly found what he needed. Using his expertise in cooking and what he had available, he began to quietly begin preparing breakfast. It wasn't something he even had to think about; he was just so used to it that he barely noticed he was doing it until a vague spread of fruits, breads and drinks were laid on the tables. He made himself a cup of pumpkin juice (he'd never quite gotten out of the habit of having it) and sat down to sip on his drink and wait.

It was around five in the morning that he heard a horrified gasp.

When he looked down, he was greeted with the sight of a rather kindly-looking house elf. She seemed a bit on the elderly side, droopy ears and gentle gaze, but her eyes were bulging in shock. He noted happily that her cloth was a uniform instead of a dirty, discarded tea towel, and that her uniform was clean as the day it was made.

"Young Master has breakfast already ready!" She gasped. "Tibby was supposed to make breakfast! Why is young Master awake?"

"I wake up early every day," Harry explained gently. "Usually at four. I'm sorry if I did your job for you, Miss Tibby. I lived in a muggle home, and I was the one to make breakfast. By the time I remembered, I'd already made it." He admitted. "I'll leave it for you next time, shall I?"

Tibby nodded firmly. "Young Master Teddy should not be making breakfast on his own. It is not safe! Tibby will be making the breakfast, so Young Master can relax."

"Thank you, Miss Tibby," Harry thanked her politely. Tibby practically glowed. "Say, I haven't met the staff yet. Would it be okay if you introduced me to the rest of the Greengrass family house elves? I'd like to meet them."

Tibby seemed shocked, considering she merely nodded instead of speaking. Harry smiled. He was going to treat the house elves as nicely as he could.

The Greengrass family had no less than five house elves. Tibby was the eldest house elf, and usually managed meals; Horvor was the second-eldest, a middle-aged elf who mostly kept up with the laundry; Deema was a young female elf who mostly served at events, but also stocked the house. Selma maintained the house and its magical items and library, and finally there was Tory, a very young house elf who attended the Astoria girls.

Harry had bowed to each one individually, asking politely about each one's work conditions, just in case. Luckily, the Greengrasses had devoted a truly comfortable space to them, despite it being the attic. Satisfied that they were happy and healthy, he ended the introduction with Selma, hoping she would later allow him access to the exalted library. He needed a good source of info.

Tibby had shot preservation charms at the food, thankfully, so when the remainder of the family dozily walked in, the food was still fresh. They quickly began to eat, with all the grace of a pureblood family; Harry quietly thanked himself for learning how to eat without behaving like Ron.

Once done, Mr. Greengrass - Paris, as he remembered from introductions the night before - cleared his throat, pulling their attention away. "I must address this formally before we leave to register him in Gringotts," he smirked, "though we all already know. Teddy, now Orpheus Teddy Greengrass, is now a member of our family. From now on, Orpheus, we expect you to learn of our family and continue the legacy of the Greengrass family."

Harry felt the smiles sent his way, but he was still in shock. Even as he automatically said, 'Thank you, si- father," his head was reeling. He was an heir. Of course. As a pureblood and a male, he would obviously be the heir. They had accepted him, knowing he was magical and assuming he was a pureblood. The Squib story had probably been enough confirmation for them. As he recalled, the Greengrasses had no sons in his timeline, and this one might not have been any different.

Then arms wrapped around him from all sides, and he broke down. This was too much.

He cried.

* * *

Harry was still a bit shocked, even as he left Gringotts, his new account set up and his blood adoption having gone through the system. He felt Daphne's hand thread into his, and gripped it tightly, using her as support while he felt himself struggle to walk properly. His already frail body was barely supporting him; he'd probably not be able to do much for a few days as the genes began mutating.

Astoria reached for his other hand, and his adoptive parents - _parents! -_ followed behind him. There were herded into the floo, where he faintly heard Mr. Greengrass - no, his father! - call out, "Greengrass estate!"

He tumbled clumsily out of the floo, using his sisters' - his _sisters!_ \- arms for support. He was led over to a couch where they laid him down. Tory popped in, laying a blanket over him, and he gave Tory an appreciative smile before he popped out again, probably to get something for his headache.

"Son?" Mrs. Greengrass - no, his _mother_ , Helen - asked in concern, sending a bolt of warmth through him. Who knew family felt like this? "You'll begin to feel the changes from the adoption soon. It'll last a few days... rest, Orpheus. We'll be here."

Harry gave them a bright, content smile and passed out.

* * *

The next few days were some of the best and worst of Harry's life. He felt incredible pain from his body morphing and changing, and was desperately hungry all the time, but his family were always there, caring for him. He knew he really needed to get on with his other duties, but… they could wait, even just a little, for him to establish an identity as Orpheus Greengrass.

On the third day, he decided to make his first visit to the library. He'd left the Deathly Hallows in his room, but luckily he could summon them. Summoning the wand and cloak, he crept away from the couch he'd been occupying and got all of three meters before he was discovered.

"Selma does not think young Master Orpheus should be awake," Selma whispered, poking Harry's side.

"Sorry, Selma," Harry apologized, quickly discarding the cloak before she could notice it and pocketing the wand. "I just wanted to get a look at the library, maybe read. It's been three days and I haven't seen it yet."

Selma studied him. "Young Master his hiding something," she continued. "What is young Master hiding? Can young Master tell Selma?"

Harry bit his lip. "Alright. I…" he touched his temple. "I was cursed at a young age, Selma. I was never able to find a solution…If they knew, they wouldn't want me, Selma, would they?"

Selma's entire demeanor changed. "Selma will help young Master Orpheus defeat the curse as best as Selma can. Follow Selma to library, quickly quickly!" Harry was led through a twisting set of turns, and it was mere minutes before the pair of them were dissecting the library for the book Harry needed.

"Selma is thinking," Selma commented, "that young Master could remove with very very powerful spell, or with powerful magical catalyst. Selma will be transferring spell to disposable and destroying spell very quickly."

Harry nodded. Why hadn't he thought of that? "How will we move the spell?"

"Selma will do, Selma knows spell," Selma soothed. "What young Master is needing is basilisk venom, or fiendfyre! But house elves cannot make Fiendfyre, even in fireproof dungeons. Not enough power," Selma mourned.

"I'll do the fiendfyre, you just need to hold the curse away from my body," Harry decided, showing her his wand. At a cry of excitement, he asked eagerly, "Found the spell?"

"Yes," Selma grinned. "Is young Master Orpheus ready to begin de-cursing?"

"I've been ready since the day I got this blasted curse," Harry laughed. "Show me to the dungeons. We're going to destroy a curse."

* * *

When Harry came to, his first reaction was to panic. He'd been casting the spell for fiendfyre, and then… and then what? He'd blacked out?

Faint voices surrounded him, and he quickly picked them out as his parents and a sobbing, tearful Selma. Fearing the worst, he croaked out, "M'fine. Was my idea."

"Orpheus," Herlen breathed, relieved. "Why didn't you tell us there was a curse? We could have helped you."

Harry averted his eyes. "I figured you wouldn't like it. That you wouldn't want me if I had a curse on me… I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It was… it was stupid."

"At least you know not to do something this rash again," Paris sighed, kneeling down next to his wife and adopted son. "Listen, son. Next time you have to do something that threatens your life, tell us. We are supposed to protect you. It's hard to protect someone who doesn't tell us when they need protecting."

Harry nodded calmly. "Yes father." Giving his adoptive family one last smile, he turned over and slept.

* * *

A/N: My way of dealing with the curse scar. We can't very well have the main character dying, but I also doubt if there was a way that Dumbledore would allow Harry to run around with the curse intact.


	4. Chapter 4

On day five, Harry was greeted with a golden opportunity.

Daphne, his sister, had finally dropped her cold mask, and was proving to be stubborn, confident, and caring. She had made a point to talk with him whenever she could, keeping him updated on important things between talking about nothing whatever with his parents and humouring Astoria's heartfelt desire to share her extensive (and expensive, and fancy) doll collection with him. Daphne made the most sense to him, and it was easy now for him to notice when she had something interesting to ask.

Her nervous tendencies included threading a hand through her hair, excessive staring, and crossing her legs. As all three of these were things she did today, he adjusted his seat on his bed and listened.

"Orpheus, I want to invite some of my friends over tomorrow," she explained. "We haven't told anyone about you yet. I want to know if it's okay with you if you meet them."

"Of course," Harry replied immediately. "Who are your friends?"

Daphne shrugged. "Some other purebloods who I know from my parent's work. There's Neville, who's from a pro-muggle family, but they respect the pureblood ways to Mum and Dad let me say hi from time to time. Oh, and there's Susan Bones, who I talk to sometimes, Dad says everyone's scared of her aunt but I don't really see it. And there's Mandy Brocklehurst, she's nice, really smart. Oh, and, um… Draco Malfoy." she sighed. "Astoria has this huge crush on him-"

Harry nodded slowly, still focused on the 'Draco Malfoy' part. He hadn't had time to prepare at all… he would need a mirror and his wand the moment he could get his hands on them. He needed their first meeting to go perfectly.

"-so of course, Astoria's not being told about this for our safety." Daphne finished. "Thank you, Orpheus. Oh, um, Mum said you have to stay in bed, but I'll take them all up to meet you, yeah?"

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Daphne. We can talk again later, you'll probably need to send out invitations now."

"Of course," Daphne nodded absently. "Later then, Orpheus."

"Later, Daphne."

* * *

The next morning, Harry slowly left his bed. He still felt shaky, but at least his body was strong enough to stand up and walk around a bit. He'd been painful and exhausted for days.

Conjuring a mirror, he stared at himself. His scar was nearly totally gone, reduced to a single white line which shrunk every day. His hair was still jet-black and his eyes still green as emeralds, but his facial features had changed drastically. His once circular face was now angular and aristocratic; his nose had rounded off; even his eyes were now angled differently, though his sight was still bad. He'd overheard his parents discussing potions treatment for it, which he was ready to agree to. His glasses were discarded; he didn't need them right at this very moment.

He was also, thank Merlin, a bit taller. He looked particularly emaciated, but it was to be expected, with both his condition and the changes. It wouldn't be strange. He began to carefully charm his hair in a delicate attempt to have it rest around his face instead of sticking up everywhere. Finally satisfied, he cleaned up his face and then let go of the magic on the mirror, moving to his closet to change into something better than silk pyjamas.

He may not be a fashionable person, but he knew his old clothes - the ones he had met Draco in the first time - were _not_ suitable whatsoever.

He finally decided on a comfortable, dark green polo and a pair of grey pants. He wouldn't bother with robes; after all, he was still sick. It wasn't like he was going anywhere.

Finished, he lay back and waited, mulling over things in his head.

* * *

Daphne sighed as her four friends got to bickering again. Mandy and Neville had been disagreeing over whether muggleborns should count when added to a pureblood line, and as usual, Susan had sided with Neville while Draco had sided with Mandy. Daphne honestly didn't care, but she eyed Draco as he began to creep away silently, quickly adopting a stance which meant he didn't want to participate in any more fighting.

Well, she would offer a distraction.

"Please, everyone," Daphne sighed. "Can we drop this argument? We're not getting anywhere."

"But Daphne-" Mandy complained.

Daphne groaned. "My brother would not be impressed. Don't you guys see what this means to me?"

Mandy stopped. So did everyone else. Yes, they knew, from the moment she'd announced her brother's existence, what it meant to her.

Daphne had been close to the age where parents had begun considering arranged marriages. Of course, this didn't normally happen in the Greengrass family, but in the event of a female heir, the Greengrasses would agree to arranged marriages to keep the line pure. She knew that Draco's parents, as much as Draco did _not_ agree with them on it, were considering proposing a deal. With a male heir, Daphne was no longer required to represent the Greengrass family. She was finally free to love any she pleased.

Not to mention - she adored him. Polite, frail, kind-hearted and altogether a gentleman. He was all she talked about lately - even Astoria found him charming.

"Of course we do, Daph," Mandy soothed over. "I'll back down… for now." She gave Neville a sharp look and relaxed.

"Where did Draco go?" Susan asked.

Daphne glanced around and shrugged. "Eh, he'll miss meeting Orpheus if he doesn't show. His choice to slip off."

The remaining three glanced at each other and accepted that, following Daphne up the stairs.

* * *

Draco sighed in relief and trotted up to his favourite room in the Greengrass house. It was always empty, kept for the firstborn male. It had beautiful blue carpets and beige walls, and was always very calming. He reached for the door and opened it, pushing into the room with a sigh of relief.

"I must admit, I expected Daphne would want to be here to introduce you."

Draco froze. Looking up, he felt his breath being ripped from his lungs.

This must be Orpheus Greengrass. And Orpheus was _stunning_. A bright smile, gentle almond-shaped eyes; if he didn't know better he'd say those eyes were emeralds, gemstones meant to adorn someone's fingers, not their face. And his voice was so silky and gentle…

"Daph was right," he breathed at last. _You ARE beautiful._

Orpheus looked a bit confused. He nipped his lip delicately, studying Draco carefully. He was just a few inches taller than Draco, too, and looked terribly worried. "Excuse my rudeness," he apologized quietly, "but who are you? And what did Daphne say?"

"Draco," he rushed, a bit flustered. "Um, she said that, that you were ill," he lied quickly. "You… um… look tired." _No_ , he reminded himself. _He looks like an Adonis. Are you sure he was named right?_

"Do I?" Orpheus averted his gaze, gently tugging at a strand of hair. "Strange. I've been sleeping for days… I suppose I have been tired, though. You're Draco Malfoy?"

 _Father would have my hide if he knew I mentioned my given name first…_ "Yeah, I am." He replied rather numbly. He probably sounded like an idiot.

Orpheus nodded. A bit sadly, he continued, "I can't stand up for very long, so…" he pointed. "I'll be on the couch… feel free to join me." He walked over a bit shakily, and in a bout of shocking rashness, Draco supported him, earning a bright smile. They dropped onto the couch, and after a few moments, Orpheus lifted a hand to summon a book from the shelf at one end of the room.

Seemingly unfazed by the magical feat, Orpheus flipped it open to somewhere in the middle, smiling and leaning in to point at the lines in the book - a magical mythology book. "Right here. This one's my favourite."

"Isn't the tale of the three brothers…?" Draco inquired awkwardly. He managed, somehow, to bite back the 'a story for babies?' that was about to leave his mouth.

"Awesome?" Orpheus finished. "Think about it. If I had one of those…" he sighed gently, a hand tracing the different shapes of the three gifts. "There's so much good they could do, you know? If they existed."

Draco blinked. He'd never actually considered it that way, always what _he_ could get, actually. It made him feel… inferior, somehow. Ignoring the twinge of guilt in his chest, he nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

There was a knock on the door, and Orpheus rose on unsteady legs, putting the book down and walking very slowly towards the door. Draco quickly joined him, subtly offering his arm for support, just in case, and opened the door.

"Orpheus? Have you-? Oh, there you are, Draco." Daphne smiled. "I guess you met then."

"We have," Orpheus replied cheerfully. "I haven't met your other friends yet, though. If I may?" he gestured, and Daphne immediately backed up, pointing towards the others.

Draco felt oddly ignored. He didn't like it.

"Neville, Neville Longbottom," Neville introduced himself shyly. Orpheus's demeanor changed in a heartbeat, his seemingly tall, proud stature falling into a sloppy stoop and his smile growing from nice to lopsided. Strangely, Neville seemed to immediately relax, smiling back.

"Orpheus, Orpheus Greengrass," Orpheus replied, giving Neville what appeared to Draco to be an awkward pat on the shoulder. "You're going to Hogwarts too, yeah? Keep an eye out for Daphne for me."

Neville nodded, full-on grinning now, and watched as Orpheus composed himself again and nodded politely to Mandy Brocklehurst.

"Mandy, I believe," he greeted her softly. "Daphne mentioned you yesterday."

"Yeah?" Mandy shrugged sheepishly. "Nice to meet you."

"The same here," Orpheus chuckled. Draco pushed aside his jealousy to relish in the sound, committing it to memory. "And you must be Susan Bones."

"I am," Susan replied cheerfully. "You're Orpheus Greengrass?"

Orpheus merely smiled.

* * *

While Susan, Mandy and Neville hadn't noticed yet, they certainly did notice when Orpheus used Daphne's shoulder for support as they walked down the stairs, and it was clear that Orpheus was extremely weak by the time they made it to the sitting room. He flopped immediately into a couch, his body going somewhat limp as he tried to disguise heavy breathing.

"Are you alright, Orpheus?" Susan asked quietly, as everyone went to sit down as well. Orpheus nodded slowly, forcing himself to sit up straight-backed.

"I'm fine," he clarified weakly. "Just a few aftereffects from the blood adoption… I've been rather tired lately." He punctuated this with a slow pair of blinks that showed off his exhaustion perfectly.

"Maybe you should sleep," Mandy suggested.

Orpheus shook his head. "I've done nothing _but_ sleep, Mandy. I think I deserve a break from healing, don't you?" There were no arguments.

* * *

Harry felt so incredibly at peace around people he recognized. Draco, for instance, reminded him of just how lucky he was; Neville was a taste of Gryffindor despite not being one yet, the place he spent seven years in; and Susan was also a familiar face. While he didn't know Mandy well, she was also becoming a comforting presence. The four of them were deep into a game of exploding snap, and Harry was happy to simply watch, leaning heavily into the couch and letting his eyes drift shut occasionally.

This. This was bliss. He would do anything to keep this.

* * *

A/N: I feel particularly on the fence about this chapter. The whole... love at first sight thing... is part of their development, and I won't be going along with a relationship based on this sort of love, but I want to allow it to evolve and grow while also having them be very dedicated to each other nonetheless. Opinions?


	5. Chapter 5

Severus Snape entered the emergency discussion room, dumping himself on a chair wearily. The Order of the Phoenix had reconvened, for some reason, and he was honestly far too tired to care. He was not a slacker, however, so he pulled himself up and waited the inevitable five minutes it would take Dumbledore to get there.

Five minutes later, Dumbledore looked gravely at his followers. "We have reconvened today," he began grandly, "to speak of a great danger on our horizon. An anonymous source has informed me of certain events none of us were aware of that occurred before Voldemort's death."

There was muttering in the crowd which was quickly silenced with a wave of Dumbledore's wrinkled hand. "I shall read to you all the message I was sent. It is written in veritaserum," which meant, in Dumbledore, that it must be true, "but is very vague. I would appreciate absolute silence."

The sounds were muffled, and they listened as Dumbledore read the message.

" _In house of little whinging, did one find his beginning. Means upon which you depend have come to abrupt end. I implore you, folk of phoenix, to find my deeper meanings._

 _Split in five was the whole, hidden in things proud and bold._

 _Defying death, with these, he lives; a new life his vessel gives._

 _We start first with Hogwarts four, we managed three, save Gryffindor._

 _With no fear the great sword cries, desperate to let his siblings lie._

 _Hufflepuff lies underground, In Lestrange's vault, safe and sound;_

 _Slytherin lies in 12 Grimmauld, in hands of elf haunted by master's calls;_

 _Ravenclaw, in Hogwarts, makes not a sound; with help of elf, it can be found._

 _Ghost of water cries and moans, desperate to have her hauntings known._

 _Beneath her floors, a weapon lies; take his teeth, and three will die._

 _Once three are gone, two remain; Ring and Diary must be slain._

 _In house of Gaunt lies great temptation; destroy the ring and its implications._

 _In house of Malfoy sleeps ink and page; subject it to unbridled rage._

 _All are gone once five are taken; Dark Lord will never again awaken._

 _Seek me not; my tracks are covered. Where I lean you oughtn't be bothered._

 _Heed my advice, and the war will be over. I leave you with just a few words to cover;_

 _In year and nineteen, ninety one, a new life has just begun._

 _He speaks of one who died alone; he brings knowledge not his own._

 _Fear him, for he knows your wrongs, and if with death your life belongs._

 _Of cloak and stone and wand he is; forget the boy; hope lies with him._

 _May phoenix fly. For now - goodbye."_

The letter was folded, and Dumbledore watched serenely as whispers inevitably leaped up from the silence. Finally, someone asked, "What are these things this upstart wants us to destroy? And who is this informant anyway?"

"Our informant, as I stated before," Dumbledore replied, "Is anonymous and untraceable. However, I am inclined to believe that his words imply a truly dark magic Voldemort performed to keep himself from death just a little longer."

"So you-know-who lives?" Another asked fearfully.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "If I am correct, he used horcruxes. A forbidden, dark magic that splits the soul. While I was unaware more than one horcrux could be made, there are no other magics that match the descriptions in the letter."

"But that means that someone made horcruxes out of long-lost Hogwarts treasures!" Someone cried, scandalized. Dumbledore merely hung his head, in the way he did when he wanted to make clear he was as upset as they without losing composure.

"I believe that we can identify a few of these items," Dumbledore announced, as if nobody had done it already. "The three of the houses must represent the house treasures - the Hufflepuff cup, the Ravenclaw Diadem, and the Slytherin Locket. Our problem is identifying the ring and the diary."

"If I may," Severus finally spoke up. "Lucius Malfoy was asked by Voldemort himself to protect a particular tome during his reign. I did not take note of it because it held no knowledge; it was, indeed, blank."

"Then perhaps that is the diary," Dumbledore mused. "We will see. Now, as far as the ring…"

Severus settled in for a long meeting.

* * *

"FATHER!"

Lucius Malfoy groaned into his hands automatically. He thought he'd managed to stamp out this excitable, schoolgirl-esque side of his son already…

Draco Malfoy ignored this entirely as he hopped down the stairs in one leap and jumped into his seat. "Father, I met him!"

"Him _who?_ " Lucius asked reasonably, contemplating asking the elves for a firewhiskey.

"The man I'm going to marry!"

Lucius spat out the piece of meat he was going to eat. "WHAT?"

"He's the most amazing person I've ever met!" Draco squealed. God, that was undignified. Did he need to lock the boy in his room for the first time since he was five? "His name's Orpheus, and he's _gorgeous,_ Father, and so very sweet and kind. He's got this smile that could make the iciest heart melt, Father, and his eyes are this beautiful emerald green, just like gemstones! Oh, and-"

"Silence," Lucius hissed.

"-so of course, Orpheus reads them just like that, bang, he knows what to do to win them over! He's just like, hi, I'm Orpheus, let me befriend you in a matter of seconds! And he's brilliant, so wise and smart, and-"

"SILENCE," Lucius roared.

"-I didn't believe Daph when she said I was going to love him, but she was right, he's just so-"

It was time to seek aid from higher powers.

"NARCISSA!"

* * *

Narcissa listened amicably as her son rambled on about what sounded like the next coming of Merlin wrapped in a frail, delicate boy with the face of a porcelain doll. Lucius really panicked far too much. Sometimes you just need to let people talk.

"So that's why I'm going to marry him," Draco finished. _Ah_ , Narcissa thought. _That's why Lucius panicked._

"Draco, dear," Narcissa soothed, "he sounds wonderful, but you haven't actually mentioned his name, or even who his family is. Now that we know what a wonderful boy he is, do tell about exactly _who_ he is."

Draco paused. "Oh. Orpheus Greengrass. You didn't know?"

"I'm afraid not," Narcissa admitted, on high alert. "Who is Orpheus Greengrass?"

"Daph's adopted brother. They blood-adopted him last week," Draco clarified. "They've accepted him as the Greengrass heir. Daph invited me over to introduce me."

Ah.

 _Ah._

"Then he is, of course, a pureblood?" Narcissa inquired. "How lovely."

Draco shrugged. "Well, yeah. I guess he is. Oh! And he said that if he was well enough to go to Hogwarts this year, he'd join me in my compartment! Isn't that awesome?" Draco glowed, smiling in awe just as he did when he was still very young. Narcissa acknowledged it with a gentle smile. As long as Draco didn't destroy any chance of a connection with the Greengrass heir, she was perfectly willing to allow this crush of his to continue. It was unlikely his feelings would be returned, but… this was definitely something she could play to her advantage.

"He sounds wonderful, dear. You behaved well in his presence?" She inquired gently, gauging his reaction.

Draco blushed up to the roots of his hair. "Um. I tried, but… well… I just couldn't get any words out," he managed, cringing.

"I see," Narcissa mused.

"I must've looked a proper fool, Mum!" Draco wailed. "He probably hates me! He'll never want to talk to me again-"

"Calm down, Draco," Narcissa soothed. "I'll instruct you. We will have you charming him easily," she smiled. Draco took a deep breath, and she allowed herself a silent cheer as she spotted the determination in his eyes.

"When do we start, mother?"

* * *

"So Orphie," Astoria smirked, "which of Daph's friends did you like most?"

Daphne cringes as Orpheus delicately put down his cup. He would, of course, humour his little sister. "They're all lovely," he replied easily. "Neville seems particularly shy, but I'm sure he'll quickly find his comfort zone. Mandy seems a bit bossy, but she's got a good heart. And Susan is very honest," he mused. "And Draco was nice."

Daphne noted that he seemed a little sad. "Draco is a very private person, Orphie," she commented. "He may not have revealed much."

Orpheus seemed to slump in his seat. Shrugging, he chugged his nutrient potions and paused to swallow the foul drinks down. "I… I realized. I just kind of wish I…" he averted his gaze. "I don't think he likes me very much. I probably look like…" he shifted again, looking down at his plate. "I wish I knew, so I could change it."

"Don't be silly, Orphie," Daphne rolled her eyes. "Draco _loves_ you."

Orpheus froze. "He does?"

Astoria nodded irritably. "He _adores_ you, Orphie," Astoria complained. "Why can't he like me?"

"I guess he doesn't like dolls very much," Orpheus offered. "But you mean it about him… liking me?" He inquired hopefully.

"Orpheus," Daphne gave him a pointed look, "he's _besotted._ He won't stop talking about you to me, and I'm your sister! You'll have to defend yourself from him at Hogwarts."

"Mmm…I guess, I mean, yeah, I will," Orpheus hurried to correct himself, but the damage was already done. Astoria stared at him. Daphne raised her eyebrow. Their parents, chatting in quiet undertones only a seat away, stopped.

"Not another one," Daphne groaned.

"We need to find Orpheus a girlfriend, Mum," Astoria hissed fearfully. "Before he steals Drakie."

Helen, always the level-headed one, replied, "Astoria. All's fair in love and war. Draco will choose whichever one of you he prefers."

Paris rolled his eyes. "If you marry him, Orpheus, Draco is taking the Greengrass name."

"He wouldn't have thought that far ahead," Daphne breathed hopefully. She glanced at Orpheus, who was blushing madly.

"I was thinking Greengrass-Malfoy sounded good," he murmured.

* * *

Harry gripped his mother's hand as they flooed into Diagon Alley. Stepping away from the fireplace in the pub, they quickly made their way outside and into the street, where Helen stopped to pluck through some coin and hand a small pouch to Harry.

"Here, Orpheus," she pushed it gently into his hand. "You're mature enough that I trust you to buy the right things with that. Make sure to get a wand and everything on the Hogwarts list." Harry shot her a proud smile and took the pouch in hand, quickly running over what he needed in his head.

His purchases went quickly. It was fairly easy to recall what he'd bought the first time around, so he found it easy to get from place to place. He bought a featherlight trunk while he had the time, quickly storing his purchases and reminding himself to sort them later.

Harry hovered at the door of Ollivanders. He had the Elder wand; he didn't technically need another. He did, however, have mixed feelings over his original wand.

Should he go in, and get the wand he'd used all his life? The one that, in the end, cast both the Patronus that saved his life and the Sectumsempra that nearly ended Draco's? Shaking his head of the terrible memory, he decided against getting it again.

He continued to hover, recalling suddenly that Neville would be going to Hogwarts with his father's wand. His own wand had inevitably given Neville tons of confidence when his spells began working. While he didn't know Neville so well, he felt it would be wrong _not_ to try and push man and wand together.

He entered Ollivanders.

"Here for your wand?" Ollivander asked kindly, adjusting his glasses. Harry shook his head, walking up to the desk and clearing his throat.

"Can I ask you a strange favour, Mr. Ollivander?" Harry inquired softly. Ollivander raised his eyebrow but nodded slowly, allowing Harry to continue. "My friend… his guardian doesn't want him to get his own wand. She wants him to use his Dad's wand, but he's a completely different person. He doesn't work well with his Dad's wand. I did some research and I know a kind of wand that would work well for him. I was thinking, if his guardian saw how well he did with another wand, she might allow him to use it instead."

Ollivander nodded solemnly. "Alright. What sort of wand did your research come up with?"

"Cherry wood, unicorn hair, somewhere around thirteen inches," Harry recalled. "I'll pay double, and if it doesn't produce results I'll return it without refund, Mr. Ollivander."

Ollivander's eyes went soft. "I can see this means a lot to you. Alright - allow me to see if I have such a wand in stock." He walked quickly into his storerooms, and Harry reached into his bag for the fourteen plus Galleons he'd need to buy the wand.

Exchange made, he continued, "Oh, and Mr. Ollivander?" he put another seven galleons down. "For my own wand. I've already got it; it simply arrived one day and refused to leave." Chuckling, Harry left, leaving a rather perplexed Ollivander behind.

* * *

Having finished early, Harry browsed. He first stopped outside Quality Quidditch Supplies to stare longingly at his old Nimbus, then at the Magical Menagerie. As he walked by, Hedwig went mad, desperately clawing at her cage to get to him, and he decided to free her of her misery. Unlocking the cage, she landed solidly on his shoulder and refused to leave, forcing him to pay fifteen galleons for her. He privately wondered if Helen would buy the story or believe he'd bought Hedwig on a whim, and decided it was unimportant.

"Well, Hedwig," he murmured, rubbing her chin, "want to help me find a nice gift for Draco? I wonder what he'd like. We didn't talk much before, and it needs to be perfect…" he mused idly. Hedwig nipped his ear and poked her beak out deliberately, leaning towards another direction.

Harry took the hint and followed her directions. She showed him into a side alley and finally took off, landing gently on the shoulder of a street vendor who blinked at her in surprise.

"Wha- oi, youngster, yer bird's on me shoulder," he called as Harry approached.

"Yes, she is, isn't she?" Harry agreed amicably. "Thank you, Hedwig." he held out his arm, and with a pleased hoot she landed once more on his shoulder, ignoring his arm and nipping his ear affectionately.

"Yer bird's a smart one, pretty too," the vendor complimented them. "Lookin' fer somethin' I can make fer ya?"

"I am a bit curious," Harry admitted. "What do you sell?" He glanced around at the empty stall and dusty worktable.

"I sell magical items," he said proudly. "Ye' hold out the tip of yer wand, see, and then I make it into a magical item. Mostly necklaces, bracelets, ear cuffs, earrings… anything ye' can wear or carry." He snapped, and a gemlike pocketwatch flew into his hand. "Like this, see?"

Harry studied it carefully. It was indeed a beautiful object, and he couldn't quite place the material. "What is it made of?"

"Magic," the vendor replied.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Pure magic?"

"Pure magic," the vendor confirmed. "I jes' shape it an' use it to cast any charms ye' want. So, what'll it be?" Harry returned the pocketwatch and considered, for a bit, what he could have done.

A necklace would be pretty, but might be used to choke. Not really practical. As he recalled, Draco didn't have piercings for earrings, and bracelets might obstruct magic sent to the wand. Pocket watches were a bit too clunky…

"What are ear cuffs?" Harry inquired. The vendor replied by handing him a collection of small magical objects which he turned over in his hands.

"They clip automatic'ly to yer ears," the vendor explained. "Like earrings, but without piercings."

Harry nodded. "An ear cuff, then."

"Any specifications?" The vendor inquired, taking back the piercings. "I can do jes' about anything, long as there's magic for it."

Harry smiled as an idea formed. "A dragon motif," he requested, grabbing his wand, "and some other standard charms. Can you do anything against Legilimency?"

"Jes' some minor charms," the vendor replied, deciding not to ask questions. "Won't defend against a legilimens with eye contact." Harry nodded.

"That's good enough. And any other defensive charms you can think of…" Harry mused. "So I just let magic flow out of my wand?"

He got a firm nod in reply. "Jes' like yer doin' there. It'll take around fifteen minutes, keep still as ye' can."

Harry took a steady breath and let magic flow. It was a bit eerie, but his natural magic was the same colour as his eyes, a bright emerald-green. The man used his own wand to cast a variety of spells, and from there he used his hands to shape and form the ear cuff.

The finished product was indeed beautiful. Its base was emerald, but its eyes were embedded with a stormy grey pair of magic 'gems' (as requested, halfway through, by Harry) and its hooked tail was tinted with a deep blue. The wings transitioned from emerald green to a deep black at the tips. Satisfied, Harry payed the surprisingly small fee and left for Fortescue's to wait for Helen.

* * *

Harry whistled back his familiar, a crow he'd managed to reach out to magically. Corvus cawed in recognition and returned to his outstretched arm, landing on Harry's spindly limb gently and shuffling up towards Harry's shoulders, which were slightly better equipped to manage Corvus's weight. He rubbed Corvus's chin and handed the crow a letter. "Get this to Draco for me, yeah?" Harry requested, offering Corvus a small treat. The kitchens were, thankfully, well-supplied and he was able to make a strange, fruity thing that Corvus, at least, liked.

Another caw, and Corvus was off, the rolled-up letter in a tight grip in his claws. Watching him go, Harry sighed happily and closed the window, returning to his bed and flopping into it.

He idly summoned a book and continued reading. He wanted to be prepared if he was supposed to defeat the Dark Lord. He'd let so many people die just because he wasn't prepared…

* * *

A/N: It is my personal belief that we simply don't give Neville enough credit or attention, and that his relationship with his Gran is harmful. He does not get a new wand until his father breaks, which in my opinion is ridiculous. It's almost like dressing up your grandkid as if they were your kid and judging them as if they _were_ their parents. That Neville braved such an unhealthy situation is incredible.

I may have a personal bias towards ear cuffs. Do look them up. And apologies if I sound too OOC using ear cuffs as part of the story.

[This is the last preview chapter. Please read, review, and follow; more chapters will follow once my other projects are complete.]


End file.
